My Poppop and I have the most special relationship. I can confidently say that he is one of a kind and I have never met anyone else like him. I was his favorite grandchild and he made that clear by always calling me #1. Our preferred method of contact, besides in-person visits, was email. I have years and years of emails between the two of us. I told him many, many times I loved him and I’m so glad I did. And he made sure to tell me how much he loved me too.
He was a hermit in a way, he was likely bipolar so he spent some years in my childhood (and adulthood) shutting himself away from the world. I always accepted who he was and knew that even in those moments, he loved me. This last time, I just wish I had pushed a little harder to see him…
Over a year ago, he was first diagnosed with an aggressive, rare cancer caused directly by (without getting too specific) debris in his lungs from helping during 9/11.
He suddenly had a golf ball turned baseball sized tumor on his lung. He went through a lot of treatment, both chemo and radiation, which absolutely slowed down the progression but not by much. He even had a major, life threatening surgery to remove some of it, that was a really rough recovery for him. They said the cancer was gone but of course it wasn’t.
Overall, we did get another year with him so I am grateful for that. He fought very hard. He put his body through hell fighting against the cancer.
But, he was still his same, witty, funny self at that point.
Fast forward to a few weeks ago… He finally quit the treatment and started feeling great again. Eating like a pig. Beard grew back. Mentally sharp, it seemed. Unfortunately, he shut everyone out as his way of dealing with having cancer.
Finally, he let my mom come visit him and we found out the reason he shut us out this time and wasn’t responding to emails, was not because he was angry with us, but because he no longer could. He was having trouble with his reading and writing and getting very confused.
We thought he had had a stroke. He mentioned the confusion to his doctor as an afterthought. After an MRI, we were given the worst news I can think of. Not only did cancer spread to his other lung but it had spread to the brain. Mere weeks to live.. 6-10 weeks to be specific. This was ONE week ago.
My grandpa is/was extremely smart and clever. He LOVED to talk about anything and everything. Joking, telling stories. So, when he started becoming confused and unable to find the words he was trying to say, it was incredibly frustrating for him and upsetting to all of us around him. He even became violent (which was one of his worst fears).. Ultimately, the best course of action was to put him in Hospice. From what we can tell, he is very comfortable there, it’s a beautiful, calm place. Unfortunately though, he can no longer speak at all to let us know whether he is comfortable or not.
We believe he is slightly aware, but we don’t know how much. We know he could hear us because he was responsive today through grunts and head nods. He is a shell of the grandpa I knew and looks like he is dead already. It’s now only a matter of days until he actually is. It was the most heartbreaking thing I have truly ever seen.
And to think, ONE week, seven days ago, he was talking mostly normal, he had a really good day on one of my visits and started taking a medicine that REALLY seemed to help. He told me he knew he was dying but he still FELT good. I brought him his favorite meatball sub and it ended up being the last thing he ate.
He is now no longer eating, hardly moving at all, slow breathing and of course unable to talk. My heart is absolutely broken. My biggest fear in life has been losing my grandparents. I’m getting married in a few months and he was supposed to walk me down the aisle because my dad passed away when I was younger so he isn’t here to do it. Poppop told me that nothing would’ve made him happier. But, a week later, I see that we are definitely not going to make it that far.
I never believed in heaven but I truly hope it’s real because he and my grandmother can finally be together again and maybe just maybe, I’ll see him again someday too. I can only hope. I just can’t believe how drastically different things are from just one week ago.
The worst part is that he told me many times that he wasn’t ready to die. He wished he had more time. He still had some fight left in him. I watched my strong grandfather cry because he was dying and couldn’t do anything about it.
I don’t know what else to say, just that I can’t imagine what my life will be like without him. He is so special to me and cancer is a ruthless, cruel disease that shouldn’t exist. He is in his mid 70s and lived a hell of a life but no amount of years with him would ever be long enough for me.
Thanks for reading this far.